Bring Me Back Home
by TitaniaSarys
Summary: Post-Captain America CW. Spoilers alert! Although Avengers-centric. The Sokovia accords had been changed a bit and every Avenger signed it, unmaking them criminals. But Natasha Romanoff is missing. And when the team finds her, she's changed. It's up to the team to help her and bring her back home. Probably Romanogers. Rated M for serious issues and PTSD. And swearing.
1. She's lost in the darkness fading away

**Hi guys! A new story about Post-Captain America 3. Just had another crazy idea. This is another take at what could happen according to me to the characters in the aftermath of the movie.**

 **I know I started a lot of different stories lately (all in the Marvel universe), and I have yet to update the others, but it's useless to tell me to hurry up because, sorry, but I won't. I'm writing with the flow, I'm writing what's currently in my mind and yes, I do have a lot of free time on my hands right now, but my mind is more set on Marvel than on Star Wars. It's a little bit like with food. Suddenly you have a huge craving for, let's say, strawberries and you just have to eat srawberries. But last week you liked blueberries. Well, that doesn't mean your not going to eat blueberries somewhere in the future, you're just not into blueberries right now. And that's fine. I'm trying to update Shadows every week because that story is really important to me. Ashes, it's a little more complicated because it's been a long while since I watched the finale. But I don't intent to make that story really long so I will finish it. I just don't know when.**

 **Anyway, here's a new story. Again, Natasha-centric and probably Romanogers because I'm a hopeless romantic believer. I hope you like it and don't hesitate to review! I hope to hear from you soon guys!**

 **TS**

* * *

Tony listened carefully to the conversation. His back left the chair back and he leaned forward, his hands pressed together as he stared into nothingness. His gaze got lost in the intricate patterns of one of his blue movable projected screens but his ears caught every word.

" ** _Just like I promised, the package will be delivered in a week_** ," a gruff voice said in his earpiece.

After weeks of search, he had finally managed to get a lead on the said package, some three days ago. Clint and Steve had immediately been on high alert, working twice as fast as the last month. Had this situation happened a few years ago, Tony would have laughed at their hastiness and how they moved awkwardly, as if they were high on sugar or had pilled glass shoved up their butts. But he didn't laugh, things were too serious and he had changed.

" ** _Make sure it's secure. I don't want any surprises_** ," another voice said, more sinister and somewhat calm.

Tony could smell the cliché Mafioso for miles. He checked on his screen if the conversation was recording. It was the middle of the night at Stark tower. The only people currently there were Clint and himself. Clint was sleeping; they decided to take turns looking for the package and doing spy stuff Tony had only imagined from what he was in the movies. Clint taught him a lot of things in the last months, about both espionage and surveillance and Tony was picking up fast. But he knew it was just for this time, he would forget all those tricky skills as soon as it was all over. But for the sake of the package, he had to do it. So while Clint slept, Tony surveilled and had finally got hold of the conversation he was currently listening to and tracking at the same time (Romanoff would be proud). When the conversation started, Tony had started the recording. There was no time to wake up Clint without losing bits of valuable intel.

" ** _Of course. All the specifics are the same as before, yeah?_** "

Tony frowned and tried to determine the accent of the first guy who seemed to be the seller or provider of the package. Tony almost expected the Mafioso to laugh in response.

" ** _Yes, negotiations are through. You'll receive the exchange's coordinates in three days, through the way we discussed. Be ready. I will not accept any complications._** "

And with that, the Mafioso was out. The provider also disconnected and Tony took the earpiece out. "Friday?"

"We have the recording Sir and I tracked the call."

The AI lit one of the screens in front of Tony and showed him a map of Earth through satellite images that progressively zoomed onto a single point in the Atlantic Ocean.

"Of course there would be a boat." Tony sighed. "Okay, call Cap, he needs to hear this." The AI obliged and Tony waited for the call to be connected with all the encryptions he used those days.

Things were messy after the whole Civil War affair. Once Ross lost his prisoners, he made Stark's life a living hell for a whole month. But after a lot of negotiations and signing and changes to the Sokovia Acts which gave the Avengers more freedom than originally intended but still under control of an international organization, every Avenger that was in hiding had been more or less forgiven. Even Steve could now walk in broad daylight without the cops on his back. When the question of ' _where is Barnes?_ ' had been thrown on the table, things almost exploded again. But Ross and the general secretary of State had made a few deals with the king of Wakanda and Barnes stayed in T'Challa's custody and under his protection, just like he had promised Steve.

But where things back to normal? No, of course not. How could they?

It had been four months since Iron Man and Captain America fought. Four months since Tony had received that burner phone from Steve. Four months that Rhodey started his rehabilitation. Four months that Clint had returned to his family.

It was three months since Steve returned from Wakanda and had made official peace with Tony. Wanda and Vision were back at the facility and helped Rhodey. Sam was also with them. Scott was still out there in the world, but he was doing fine on his own, trying to make good by his daughter. Spidey was back in Queens and working on that project he didn't even knew was funded. T'Challa had resumed his responsibilities as king in Wakanda.

The only missing piece of the puzzle was Natasha.

She had taken a great risk when she had allowed Steve and Barnes to leave. T'Challa wasn't the problem. They had worked it between themselves and he understood and respected her guts, those Black Widow instincts that were often what allowed her to survive. The government had been the problem. Her last trip to Capitol Hill hadn't been pretty and things escalated quickly. In a matter of days, she had been as much wanted as Rogers and Barnes. She hid, which she did best. The shadows were her realm and Tony was sure she would be fine.

He had been wrong. Natasha had not once spoken to any of the Avengers in the first month following the fall out, since the day she had last spoken to Tony at the facility. She had left them breadcrumbs instead, addresses and codes to her safe houses, encrypted notes that said she was alive. Things to let them know that she was out of reach, but still out there. Things that said she would someday come home. So they waited and did their best with the negotiations of the new accords.

Usually, she sent Tony postcards of the current location she was in. Of course, Tony knew that by the time he received one, she was already three postcards ahead and was out of the country. He had pinned all those postcards in the main room on the top floor, behind the bar counter so whenever he was tempted to drink himself to oblivion, her breadcrumbs were there to remind him he was better than that. It only stopped him half the time.

He had suddenly stopped receiving postcards after a month. The last one was from Barcelona. He didn't worry about her though: if someone could survive on the run for years, it was her. He just thought she was taking her sweet time. But weeks past and after another month, he had decided to call Steve via his burner phone. Because, it could be considered an emergency. Because Natasha only missed a check-in if something went wrong. And during their negotiations with the government, when both parties were still pretty much fighting, things could go very wrong.

Steve had immediately showed his concern and Clint too. Despite everything, he was still Nat's best friend. Both Avengers had decided to come live at the tower until Natasha was found. The accords were eventually signed a month after that, allowing everyone to breath freely. The trio had kept looking, getting more desperate every week. That night when Tony found the lead with the conversation, Steve was out on the ground, looking at another lead from Natasha's web, her former attorney/lawyer/friend Isaiah.

"Rogers here," Steve answered.

"Hey Cap, how's your lead?" Tony asked.

"Nothing. Isaiah doesn't know a thing. She hasn't contacted him since Sokovia fell. He also said she hasn't used her web that much. But he gave me a list of her safe houses that were recently used although I have no idea how he was able to give me that list. I thought they didn't work together anymore?"

"Well, Natasha is full of surprises," Tony said, a slow smile creeping on his tired features.

"Yeah. Well, almost all of the safe houses on the list were used by our friends, you know, with all the addresses and codes she left us? But three of them weren't and all three are in Europe, so I thought I could check those out."

"Great, good job, but I have a better lead." Tony looked at one of the screens, the farthest on the right, the one that he had refused to look at so far that's why he had put it as far away as possible. "I'm sending you a file right now."

Tony could almost see Cap taking his phone away from his ear to look at the file. To his surprise, he could still hear his voice. "Does Captain America finally know how to put a call on speaker?"

"Shut up. And I'm not Captain America anymore." Steve looked at the file and Tony heard him gasp when his gaze settled on the picture joined with the file. "Is it…"

"Yep, that's her. I found this file a couple of hours ago before Clint went to bed. We found a potential lead about this package that's mentioned. It's different than the usual human traffic practices, so we checked it out. Turns out, it's a private exchange. I recorded the conversation. Technically, she should be on a boat, not very far from the Floridian coast."

"Miami? Seriously?" Steve asked, reading the file.

"Yep, that where the exchange is supposed to take place. But it's not due until next week."

"Which gives us a perfect window."

"Exactly. Now get your ass back at the tower, we'll all get some rest. Then tomorrow night we'll give them hell."

"Shouldn't we act now?" Steve asked.

"I know you're concerned about her, we all are. But we won't do any good with our current exhausted states. We don't know her situation. She's the Black Widow for fuck's sake! Whoever managed to overpower her isn't just anybody. Even if they had a lucky shot, Natasha's one of the hardest people on Earth to catch, if not the hardest. We need to prepare."

"You're also thinking about calling everyone in, right?"

"Of course. The Avengers need to assemble again."

As agreed, Steve came to the tower. In the morning, when everyone was rested, Tony called the others. Wanda, Vision and Sam. Rhodey couldn't go into the field yet and decided to stay at the facility. The Hulk was nowhere to be seen and Thor was busy on Asgard with something called the Ragnarok (Tony didn't know much about it and truthfully didn't care). Scott and Peter were back to their old lives and weren't officially part of the Avengers so Tony kept them in the dark.

Technically, one of the clauses of the changed accords allowed the Avengers to intervene without the agreement of the UN counsel if one of them was in grave danger. So they made a plan, prepared the Avenger jet and all their equipment and waited for the sun to set. All the research and leads the guys had in the last three months were constantly present on the main table, projected by Friday. Every time one of the Avengers walked by and looked at the photograph that had made Steve gasp, they had different reactions. Steve couldn't bear to look at it more than three seconds. Wanda almost cried. Vision's face remained neutral but his eyes showed concern. Clint always threw something across the room whenever he laid eyes on the picture. Sam clenched his jaw. And Tony looked at the picture for a while every time, trying to find something new he hadn't seen before, some clue to give him another idea about her current state.

They had no idea how old that picture was, but Natasha had changed. Her friends recognized her immediately but it was true that for the public, she was different. And that picture had only been released privately to a handful of potential buyers, very specific people in the slave market. In her file, there wasn't any mention of her identity, so Tony didn't know if the traffickers knew she was the Black Widow. He shuddered to think what they probably did to her to keep her locked up for so long. No prison Tony knew could hold the Black Widow.

They got a hold of this lead three days ago, when Tony had been scanning the human traffic market (he had gotten desperate and it was as good a place to look as any in their situation). He had seen a few reports about future exchanges and one of them mentioned a fiery redhead with green eyes. After reading all the details about the ' _package'_ , such as height, age and measurements he wished he hadn't seen, he had found the picture. He found it hard to believe it was her at first, for two reasons. The first one being that usually in those situations, the slavers changed the physical appearance, like dying the hair color, cutting the hair and such. But they had done nothing of the sort to her. Either because she didn't let them (which Tony hoped was the case because it implied she still had some control over the situation) or because they wanted to keep her like she was (which could imply that the buyer knows she's the Black Widow). The second reason was that this picture made him sick. Mostly because Natasha had lost a lot of weight, it could be seen on her cheekbones and an on too thin neck. She wasn't bruised or cut on the picture, certainly because she had to look presentable to be sold. It made him even sicker. She also had that hollow look in her eyes, something almost haunted, as if she had been through hell and back.

But the sun finally set and they all climbed aboard the Avenger jet, minds set and determined. "Tonight, we're getting our Natasha back," Steve said, taking the lead and everyone nodded. He wasn't Captain America and didn't carry his shield anymore, but he remained one hell of a leader. Tony had also designed a new kind of protection for him so he wasn't completely defenseless in the field. Clint sat in the cockpit and put the coordinates in and they were off.


	2. Somebody shine a light

Natasha had no idea what day it was, what time or where the hell she was on the good old Earth. She was just surrounded by darkness. She had tried to keep track of the time, using her senses, counting down the hours. But the drug made it difficult. They gave her regular injections but she couldn't tell how many hours apart. She thought maybe every day or every two days, she couldn't really tell. But she knew she had been captive for a very long time, too much for her liking.

She had resisted. She was proud to say that she had destroyed ten guys before the drug was in her system. A bastard had had a lucky shot, that's how she had been drugged in the first place. They didn't beat her up much after that, just watched her struggle. She was just barely lucid enough to realize the effects of the drug. It drowned her senses, gave her similar side effects to that of a hangover. Despite the dizziness and nausea, she didn't throw up. They had locked her somewhere entirely dark. But the weirdest part was that she could hear the sea.

She was on a freaking boat. Surrounded by the ocean and seagulls. She got the confirmation when she had tried to escape and barely made it ten feet outside, seeing the waves stretch towards the horizon. And now, she could hear weird noises. Her mind was too foggy to guess what was going on and she lied on her side, her back pressed against the hard cold metal surface of her prison. It was completely dark around her but she kept her eyes closed, fighting the effects of the drug.

She covered her ears with her hands, frowning. She wanted that noise to stop. People had been making a lot of noise outside of her prison some days, as if they were moving heavy stuff. She had heard machines, the hauling kind, and of course the loud puffing of the ship itself. Sometimes men yelled too. But now she was too tired. She barely slept actually, her mind constantly trying to fight the drug. Because she knew that if she let herself become completely numb, they'd take advantage of her. She was a survivor; there was no way she'd give up.

But the noise only became stronger. It still sounded as if she was underwater or that her head was filled with liquid. Suddenly something heavy landed on the roof of her prison but she didn't stir, the drug induced weakened state slowly claiming her despite her own thoughts trying to fight against it. She had been fighting for so long, she was reaching her limit. She heard shouts outside but ignored them, pressing her hands against her ears harder. She brought her knees to her face. She had adopted that position very early in her captivity; it allowed her to rest without being comfortable enough to actually sleep well. She probably didn't sleep much because of that actually.

Something was dropped on her roof again, this time causing her to whimper in her painful slumber. She didn't crack her eyes open because she knew that wouldn't change a thing, it was completely dark in there. Maybe her captors wanted to torment her again. One time when they were bored, they slammed metal bars on her prison, making the whole damn thing resonate. She nearly got insane that day and her ears hurt so much the next day that she hadn't received the usual shot. That's when she had made her escape. She had been blind and deaf but she was still the Black Widow: she could kill a man with her eyes closed. All she needed were her thighs. Unfortunately, she didn't escape and they threw her back inside the prison.

They usually gave her the shot during silence time. She had come to divide the time in four periods. Noise time was when all the machines worked and people yelled. Seagull time when the birds where loud and stood on the roof of her prison. It was also the warmest time so she figured it was probably noon. Then came lazy time which was the hardest period to go through because it became quite warm in her prison and since it was only opened once a day (or so she thought at least), the air was thick and she sometimes had trouble to breath. She usually went through it wheezing in the darkness. Then there was silence time when they brought her food and shot her with the drug. The cold settled during silence time but she always welcomed it after lazy time. She slept best during silence time.

Now was silence time. Or at least it was supposed to be. She was confused when the noises outside only intensified and she opened her eyes in surprise. Only darkness welcomed her. Why was someone messing up with her divided periods of time? The noises grew louder now that her hands had left her head. She was scared and so she brought her hands to her chest, her knee coming even closer. But she didn't close her eyes, she promised herself not to close them until the noises died.

But they didn't and after a while, the doors of the container she was in were finally opened, one of them at least. It made a grinding metal noise and moonlight entered her prison but on the side she wasn't on. She still lied in darkness but her eyes looked at the opening, not understanding what was going on. A silhouette stood in the moonlight; she could vaguely make out the body of a male human. She shivered and closed her eyes, wincing. The light wasn't really strong but it was enough to hurt her.

She heard the silhouette come closer and say something but she couldn't quite here with all the ruckus outside. When he took a step inside, she opened her eyes and forced herself to sit up despite the dizziness that made her sway. She caught herself and pushed herself in the corner of the container, as far away from the man as possible. They never came to torment her during silence time. She had already received the shot, what did they want more? The man had a light on his hand and she squirmed and yelped, closing her eyes and turning her head away from him. He didn't understand at first and she looked for something, anything to show him he was hurting her and to make him stop. Her hand closed on an empty glass and she threw it at him without even looking. He glass smashed on the floor. She didn't know where but she seemed to have made her point because she couldn't hear the heavy iron steps of the man anymore. And the light from his hand was gone too.

Wait a second, iron steps? She opened her eyes and looked at him when all the noises outside finally died as quickly as it had started. He wasn't entirely human, something seemed to cover him. She couldn't quite make out the colors in the dark, even with the moonlight but her brain took over for her, saying it was red and gold.

"Tony?" she croaked.

* * *

Tony let the other Avengers take care of the bad guys, guards, mercenaries, slavers of whatever the hell they were at the time. The battle went full on when they discovered that the bastards were well prepared and had their fair share of heavy weaponry, including EMPs that almost fried Tony's suit and bombs and machine guns. Even a damn rocket launcher!

But they were no match for the Avengers. Steve told him to find Natasha and he scanned all the containers. He finally found the only one with a person emanating a heat signature. But what he saw inside, he wasn't prepared to see it.

The moonlight only lit half of the container. Tony had trouble opening the first door and so when he saw a woman recede in the darkness, he thought it was maybe better to leave the second door closed. Until he could assess the situation that is. So he lit his left glove and entered the container, shedding light on the dark corner where she was.

He couldn't see her well, but what shocked him was her defensive position. She was curled up in the corner, shaking badly, her red curls loosely falling around her face, partially hiding it. Her green eyes glimmered in the darkness but they seemed clouded. When he directed the light from his glove to her face, she squirmed and yelped as if he had burnt her with fire. But he realized quickly that she was only trying to hide her head, wrapping her arms around her eyes. In her panic, she threw a glass at him but it landed awkwardly between them, not reaching him by far. It wasn't like Natasha to throw aimlessly like that. He bitterly realized she wasn't quite herself and extinguished his light.

She calmed down instantly or at least she stopped thrashing around. He didn't move, still close to the entrance of the container. She was shaking and her arms were wrapped around herself, one around her chest and the other around her stomach. "Tony?" she croaked. A wave of relief washed over him when he heard his name. She wasn't brainwashed or completely out of it. He took a step forward, both hands raised in front of him. He made his gloves disappeared, revealing his bare hands. He took it as a good sigh that she didn't flinch when he approached and knelt in front of her. She was looking at him but at the same time she wasn't, almost as if she couldn't see him.

He gently pressed his hand on her elbow and she grabbed his hand as if to make sure he was real. But after a few seconds, she dropped it and hugged her side again. "Guys, I've got her," Tony said. Clint and Steve were the next ones in the container and Tony walked out, not wanting to crowd the place and spook her. She didn't flinch when her best friend gently grabbed her by the shoulders to take her out of the corner of the container.

"Can you walk?" he asked. She nodded and tried to get to her feet, but she was too weak, her mind too foggy. She fell and Steve and Clint both caught her by the arms.

"I'm sorry… I… they drugged me," she slurred. "I don't think I can… move." Steve told her it was alright and lifted her in his arms. Steve realized she weighted nothing and that scared him. When he walked outside though, she squirmed in his arms and hid herself in his chest, away from the moonlight.

"It's the light," Tony said. "She seems to be somehow too sensitive to it."

"What have those bastards do to her?" Clint whispered under his breath. Natasha just clung to Steve, grabbing his jacket weakly, way too weakly. In the darkness of the night, he couldn't get a good look at her features but he was sure she didn't look good.

"Who… who else is here?" she croaked.

Steve knew she had no idea how the others had been doing since the last time she had sent Tony a postcard three months ago. "Wanda, Vision and Sam are here with us," he said as he walked towards the Avenger jet that Clint was already piloting, ready to take her in the air. Steve saw her smile and relax in his arms. "Nat?" he asked, worried by her sudden numbness.

"It's ok," she whispered. "I just need… to sleep for a while. I'm… safe now."

Steve rushed to the jet and everyone followed. They left the ship and Tony destroyed half of it, preventing it from sailing and reaching the coast without actually killing everyone on board. Steve gently laid Natasha on the gurney in the center of the jet.

"How is she?" Wanda asked, taking the redhead's hand in hers. Steve checked Natasha's pulse. Her heartbeat was present but weak. He didn't speak though. Clint took them in the air and they headed for New York.

"Friday, scan her for any injuries, toxins, anything that isn't the same as your regular readings of Agent Romanoff," Tony ordered. The AI set to work as the Avengers watched her sleep. She looked peaceful and only frowned from time to time. Her skin was getting clammy and Steve put a wet cloth on her forehead when he felt her burning up. In the light of the jet, they could all see her hollow features. The bones on her face were so visible she looked like a skeleton or a zombie. Her hair was slightly longer and was wavy as usual but had lost its natural brightness and the red seemed almost dull.

"Miss Romanoff doesn't seem to have suffered any grave external or internal physical injury. Her body is very weak though. She suffers from under nutrition; she weights now no more than ninety pounds whereas she used to weight a hundred and thirty." Tony's heart sank: she almost lost twenty kilograms. "Her system is filled with an unidentified drug that seems to prevent her brain from working efficiently."

"Give me the list of this drug's components and start working on a cure. Anything else?"

"Her eyes seemed to have gotten accustomed to complete darkness. Miss Romanoff won't be able to stand any kind of light for a while. I suggest helping her get accustomed to it slowly and progressively."

"Thank you Friday."

Tony then looked at his fellow Avengers and saw a fierce determination in their eyes. No matter what would happen, no matter what the government threw at them, they would help Natasha. They were a team but at that moment, they were more of a family.


	3. It's where my demons hide

Natasha woke up in a fright and raised her fists next to her head in a defensive position. She frowned when she didn't feel the cold stab of metal walls around her. Instead she felt something soft and warm around her legs. She let her hands slip on the smooth fabric so nice to the touch. She smiled as she realized she was touching sheets. It had been so long she had slept in an actual bed she had forgotten what it felt like. She had the impression she would melt right through it and touch the floor. Of course, as a spy, she had had her fair share of uncomfortable places where she had slept. But never ninety nights in a row.

She also felt a pinch in her left arm and when she touched that area with her right hand, she found that tubes where coming out of her arm. An IV, she guessed. That would explain why she felt a little better than the last time she was conscious and why she was finally clear headed. She plugged the needle out before turning her attention to the rest of the room.

The room was plunged in complete darkness and she was grateful for that. She remembered what happened, how her friends had come to her rescue. She had passed out in Steve's arms but she trusted them. Tony probably ran a full check on her and they put her to bed the second they arrived at the tower. Or was it the facility? Natasha couldn't tell but she knew she wasn't in medical. She knew that because she couldn't smell the familiar antiseptic and too clean stench of anything that reminded her of hospitals.

In the dark she could easily make out the shapes of the room. Basic furniture layout just as she liked it. So it was one of her rooms. The night stand on the right had a book on it. She couldn't make out the title in the darkness but when she pressed her hand against the cover she smiled when she felt the carved letters. _Crime and Prejudice_ , one of her favorite. And also the one she had left at the facility before she had fled after her conversation with Tony. She remembered her hastiness that time, grabbing only the necessary in a duffel bag, heading out and into one of her safe houses.

She still had no idea of how many weeks had passed since they abducted her. She was in Europe, in Spain to be exact. But after that one night in Barcelona when those bastards had jumped her and drugged her, she had lost track of the time almost immediately. She could actually still feel the side effects of the drug but it was wearing off. She squinted her eyes in the darkness to inspect her room at the Avengers HQ. A chair had been pulled next to her bed but no one was sitting in it.

Friday's voice made her jump. "Good morning Miss Romanoff."

"Jeez Friday! You scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm sorry," the AI said but Natasha interrupted it.

"Wait a second. If I'm at the facility, how come you're here too?"

"Mister Stark has decided to stay at the Avengers facility during your recovery but also as an excuse for, I quote 'team bonding and difference solving'. I believe Mister Stark is trying to put the team back together. He has uploaded my program in the main frame for the time being."

Natasha smirked. "Of course he has." She shifted in the bed, glad to be able to feel her muscles enough to move. She didn't know if she could stand though but wasn't going to sit around to find out. She brushed away the covers and realized she was wearing one of her old tank tops and a pair of sweatpants. She swung her legs on the edge of the bed. "Who was in my room last?" She knew her fellow Avengers had probably been taking turns watching her.

"Agent Barton has left a few minutes ago to grab a coffee. Do you want me to notify him that you are awake?"

"Hold that thought." She pressed her hands against the edge of the bed, wincing slightly at the effort. "I want to surprise them. Where is everybody?"

"In the common room eating breakfast. If you wish to join them, I advise you use the items Mister Stark has prepared for you."

Natasha signed. "What has Tony done this time?"

"There is a wheelchair waiting next to your bed…"

"Never."

"Very well. Mister Stark has also prepared a pair of glasses that would shield your eyes progressively, adapting to your eyes' capacity to take in light. They are now set for 5% of light tolerance. They are on your nightstand behind the book if you wish."

"Will they adapt on their own?"

"It is still a prototype and it might need some adjustments but Mister Stark believes it should be able to adapt to your light tolerance."

"Thank you Friday," Natasha said as she lifted herself from the bed and fell back in it after two seconds. She tried her best to get up but her legs just didn't seem able to hold her. She had slept well that night all things considered and now that the drug was mostly out of her system, she could think clearly again. It felt as if she had been underwater for months, seeing and hearing everything but not being able to react accordingly, her mind slowed and foggy.

She ended up putting the sunglasses on (well she guessed they were sunglasses, she couldn't see what else they would be since they were supposed to shield her from the light) and also slid in the wheelchair. She got the hang of it with a few pulls and rolls and managed to leave her quarters without hitting any piece of furniture. She had to give it to Stark, she was relieved to see again.

It was difficult at first to believe she could see again. She had spent so many weeks in the dark, with only small sound inputs as to what was going on in the outside world. And even as she sat in that wheelchair, finally back among civilized people, she had no idea what had happened. So many questions filled her mind and not enough answers. She counted on her friends to tell her what had happened.

Painfully and slowly she made her way to the elevator and before she had time to ask Friday to open it, Barton came out of it. He was so surprised to see her he almost spilled his coffee. After two very long minutes during which he refused to let her go out of his bear hug, he quickly drank his coffee and took her in the elevator when she allowed him to push her. Truthfully, she was tired and couldn't really feel her arms. She was still very weak but better.

They eventually reached the top floor where the main living room was and where Tony usually held his parties.

"The princess finally woke up!" Tony said when Clint pushed Natasha in. Despite the humor in the billionaire's voice, Nat could sense he was relieved to see her up. Everyone came to hug her and asked her if she was alright. She didn't answer the latter because she wasn't and she didn't like to lie to her friends, to her family. She knew they could see her weak state and that their questions, although sincere, had also half been out of politeness. She asked Clint to pull her wheelchair at the table where everyone was eating. Wanda immediately served her a plate full of pancakes and Natasha smiled half-heartily.

"I won't be able to eat that much, Wanda… but thank you."

She only ate one third of the plate and drank half a glass of orange juice. She could see the worry on her friends' faces through her sunglasses but she couldn't physically bring herself to eat more. Even what she had eaten was twice as much as she ate daily during her imprisonment and would certainly send her to the bathroom shortly after because her stomach wasn't used to such quantities anymore.

She was tempted to force herself to smile but she thought against it. It wasn't like her to pretend outside of a mission. Among her friends, among her family, she promised herself she would stay true and never wear a disguise. So she didn't smile but agreed to answer the many questions they had if they answered hers in return.

She told them about her three months in the container. She told them how they administrated the drug, how she forced herself to fight it. She told them how she kept track of time with the four periods. When Clint asked if they tried to rape her, she told them that they tried once, but ended up with black eyes and broken arms so they never tried again. She had also heard once when they brought her the daily glass of water and bread, that the boss didn't want her to be "soiled".

Everyone listened carefully; some people stared at her in pity, others in disbelief, and others avoided her gaze. She was brief and chose her words wisely, saying it all in a few sentences. She didn't tell them how hot it was during the afternoon, or how she could barely sleep. She didn't tell them how much her body ached everyday because of the positions she was laying in and the hard surface on which she was sleeping. She didn't tell them that it had hurt so bad she had gotten used to the pain. She didn't tell them how afraid she had been. She didn't tell them how afraid she still was and how those ninety horrible days and nights had opened the flood of her darkest and bloodiest memories. She now remembered things she had buried in her mind, things that the brainwashing had erased.

Instead, she made sure to tell them how she much she loved them, how much she cared about them. They told her the same and explained what had happened during her absence. They told her everything about the new accords and that she would later have to read and sign them, that Ross would probably want to talk to her and even meet her in person. Although Tony said that the Secretary of State would have to wait until she would be feeling better and only if she'd want to talk to him. Now that they got her back, they were going to defend her teeth and nails.

Natasha then asked Wanda to help her shower but things didn't go as planned in the bathroom. As feared, Natasha did throw up in the shower, right before going in. So she ended up taking a bath and Wanda washed her because Natasha couldn't move as much as she wanted yet. After one hour in the bathroom, she was so tired she couldn't cloth herself and Wanda basically used her powers to do that for her. After promising not to tell the others about the vomiting, Wanda brought her back to her room and Clint laid her in bed, her sunglasses on the bedside table and the wheelchair next to the bed. And that's how Natasha's first day back ended.


End file.
